


relativity

by novembersmith



Category: Cordelia (Movie Poster)
Genre: Based on the movie poster!, Blood Drinking, Drunk and Uninformed BDSM, F/M, Femdom, Neither party knows what they are doing, Not the movie!, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Self-Discovery, Vampires, Yuletide Treat, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:34:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28311672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novembersmith/pseuds/novembersmith
Summary: It might be the start of something star-crossed, depending on how one looked at it.
Relationships: Cordelia/Original Male Character
Comments: 5
Kudos: 60
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	relativity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sophiahelix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophiahelix/gifts).



> sophia_helix, I loved your prompt for this poster and took it for a quick spin! Hope you enjoy my take on this poster and the movie that could have been. Happy Yuletide!

She hadn’t thought much of him before now. He’d stumbled away from the smoking room, and she’d quietly followed him on a whim. Humans liked their meat smoked, after all, and Cordelia, mostly trying it to amuse herself one night, had picked up a taste for the nicotine in their blood. 

They all had their vices, after all.

It was the time of night she liked best, where she could pick and choose from the luxurious lambs and all would be considered a drunken nightmare in the morning, their light-headed sickness the fault of the wine alone. There were others of her kind that preferred a more active hunt, or a more messy slaughter, but she found it pleasant to leisurely pick her way through an estate before killing off her favored targets and moving on. She’d done it in dozens of estates, now, from hundreds of landed gentry. There was usually a tasteful slaughter when she was done, if she disliked her victims enough, but nothing so vulgar as a pattern.

This night was the same as any other, except, except. There was something unusual about how this one went limp for her. Cordelia hadn’t even bared her fangs, had only pressed him against the wall with human strength. He still went easily for her, spreading his legs to let her stand between them. He smelled richly of smoke and brandy and starched clothes, and his blood was pounding so thunderously in his veins she could have heard it outdoors, over the pouring rain.

The young lord Frances Knightley, she recalled from the gossip of her fellow servants. A good-for-nothing scholar, given to sneering and arguing with all in earshot. Not cruel to the girls, but egalitarian in his rude and insulting ways. He must be very drunk right now, to be so yielding for her.

“Does my lord like this,” she wondered in a low voice, and he shuddered, arching up on his tip-toes. She rubbed her lips beneath his ear, soft as shadow, and heard a whine deep in his chest. Well, she wasn’t in a hurry. She could take some time to play a little before drinking him unconscious. “Answer or I’ll leave, darling.”

“Who are you,” he gasped, and she shoved his head harder against the wall, her hand cupping the back of his skull and tenderly grinding his cheek against the damasked wallpaper. She could smell his arousal, thick and heady as spilled blood, leaking from his skin.

Interesting.

“That’s not an answer, Frances,” she tsked, then stepped back, holding him in place with a finger and considering him. A glorious ass, for a scholar, rounded in his trousers. When she cupped a cheek, he struggled, and the back of his neck flushed deliciously red. When she gave his rear a stinging smack, he moaned a little and spread his legs more for her, smelling plaining of arousal.

“I do? I do,” he mumbled.

“Do what?” she asked, and licked his carotid with the tip of her tongue.

“I do like what you’re doing,” he said, sounding shocked. How very honest he was. “I, don’t stop. Please.”

 _Very_ interesting.

“Come with me,” she said thoughtfully, and led him by the hand to his own rooms. He went easily, which wasn’t at all the reputation she’d heard of him, and let himself be shoved down on the bed, scattering pages and papers. “Undress,” she commanded, and he did, fumbling his cravat and braces and flinging them to the side to crumple, for one of her poor fellow servants to deal with later. Maybe Cordelia would deal with it herself, before she left for the night – it was easy enough for her, after all, and when she was done with Frances she’d be full of energy, anyway.

When he was finally fully naked, he tried to curl up and hide himself, and she tsked at him. She felt a low throb of interest of her own when he gasped out an apology and went limp again, eyes wide.

“You look good like this,” she observed, tilting her head and regarding him. He was splayed out and presenting for her, cock hard and cheeks a bright red. He was pretty enough, for a man. She scraped a nail down his sternum and watched it blossom with blood. His cock twitched, and she smiled.

“I – I’ve had too much brandy, I don’t – who are you? What are you? You’re too strong, you – are you going to kill me?” He didn’t sound terribly concerned, so much as confused, and curious.

“Where’s the fun in that?” she asked, and licked up the blood carefully. He was delicious, but they all were. There was something else about this one. She hadn’t done this often before – honestly, it seemed boring, but there was a shocked, sweet quality to Frances and his honest responses, his surprised acquiescence to her strength, that made her feel genuinely hungry in more way than one.

She almost regretted he wouldn’t remember much in the morning; it seemed a waste, for a young man to have a revelation and then lose it again.

“Hold onto the bedframe, and don’t let go,” she instructed, mostly to see him obey, but found the taut stretch of his body pleasing enough, too. She settled between his legs, ignoring his cock in favor of the artery she so rarely had a chance to indulge in – necks and wrists were much easier and less fuss. When she mouthed the pulse of it, scraping her teeth along, he moaned and arched his hips. The bedframe creaked.

“Be good,” she said mildly, and he stilled again, panting, and then cried out, sounding almost ecstatic, when she finally bit down and started carefully draining him. It was harder to pay attention than she’d expected, with him trying so hard not to write for her. She felt – aroused, maybe, a low throbbing in her breasts and abdomen. It’d been a long time, but he was being so good for her, and apparently she liked that in a man.

When she gave his thigh a last lick, closing the punctures there, she glanced up and smiled at him, knowing her mouth was wet and red.

“Good boy,” she praised lowly, feeling surprisingly fond, and then he gasped and ejaculated, shuddering and untouched. She blinked at him, and then, slowly, not quite sure of herself, touched the tip of her tongue to the pearlescent mess now decorating his torso. “Very good,” she said, and, in spite of herself, leaned in to give him a careful, uncertain kiss. Her teeth were still sharp with the feeding, and she nicked his lip as he moaned for her.

“Sleep,” she said, frowning down at him, and felt uneasy, unsettled as she gathered his clothes to fold more neatly. She kept flicking him glances as she tidied the room automatically, muscle memory moving her through the steps. The pages they’d scattered were interesting, she noted – mathematics, perhaps. Something about stars, and the light they bent.

She pocketed one without thinking much of it, and cast him a last glance after she blew out the candles.

Usually humans didn’t remember much, after a feeding, and if they weren’t one of her kills, she didn’t think of them much again, after.

But this had been unusual. She wondered, as she checked her breath and lips for blood and headed sedately towards the servant’s quarters, if she should listen more to the gossip there. She wasn’t much sure what one did with a man in this way, and suddenly, for the first time in centuries, for no real reason, she found herself a little… curious.


End file.
